Happiest Day
by starmouse
Summary: Uh... Well... Basically, Spike and Buffy randomness in a far~flung AU while I work on updates for my more relevent stories. Kinda cute, in a very Slayer~y way.


  
A lovely little church in New Orleans...

The blonde, usually so collected, betrayed his nervousness by fiddling with the wrist buttons of his black suit jacket. Pacing a two~foot patch of floor, he twisted the rosebud at his lapel idly in it's place. His eyes scanned the entrances, as if he was waiting for someone to enter at any moment. But the wide wood doors stayed still, and no unaccounted~for footfalls clicked upon the tiles of the floor.

He licked his lips and turned to the man at his side.

"Where is she?" He glanced back at the doors, as though they may have produced a visiter in the moment he didn't watch them. The brunette young man at his side, wearing a similar suit, clapped him heartily on the back.

"No freaking, Spike. She'll be here. She worked too hard getting you back not to. Buffy likes collecting her due." There was a slight lilt to his voice absent in his companions, and he seemed much less wracked by panic. But he, too, cast nervous glances around the packed room, generally focused on the second row.

"Is everything all right, young man?"

Both turned at the slightly lisping voice behind them. The blonde waved a hand in what was meant to be a calming gesture, though it came across as frantic.

"Fine, Father. I'm-- sure she'll be here shortly." Under his breath, "Bloody well better be."

The old man chuckled. "If she doesn't hurry, she'll miss her own wedding!"

Spike emitted a short bark of laughter, shot the priest a quick, slightly manic grin, and turned his back, going about his waiting.

Xander shot him a look, sent the priest a slightly apologetic, knowing smile, and turned also.

"Hey, man," he whispered, leaning into the vampire's ear. "Don't tick off the priest. He'll start blessing water at you, or something."

Spike shook his head. "He'll get over it. Christ, Whelp! Why isn't she here?"

Xander glanced back over at the second row of the goorm's side, where a thin, dark~haired woman in pearls and burgundy was smiling to herself with an air of detatched insanity. He wasn't even sure why she had been invited. And she was the only person that would try to punish _Buffy_ for this convoluted situation...

He opened his mouth to speak, when Spike straightened. The doors had opened, letting in the orange~filtered late afternoon sunlight.

"There she i--. Oh, bloody, what the--?"

She stood there, on the terra cotta tile, in all her self~righteous, bridal glory. White skirts were shredded and plastered to her tanned legs with mud and swamp water. She was the center of an ever expanding cloud of putrid pond scum smells, pushing back the delicate rose and lily perfumes.

Previously salon~fresh blonde hair was matted, turned brown, and hung ropy around her face and dripped hairspray and muddy water onto the floor. Small cuts lined her exposed upper arms, cut redly across her face, through the waterproof mask of make~up applied earlier. Her eyes blazed, flashing amber through the mess; her lip curled just slightly, like a wolf. And in her hand, a soggy bouquet of white roses, nearly stripped of petals, was gripped with all the strength of a woman scorned and left for dead on the bayou.

She shot a fierce, contempt~filled look at the second row, and then turned to the organist, staring agape, like everyone else.

"Well? Shouldn't you be playing a march thingy, or something?"

The pudgy musician hastened to start the march, and as the familiar strains started spurting from the tall pipes, with her immortal groom staring, open~mouthed, from the alter, her friends, family, and enemies slowly standing, still in shock, and with her hair in an absolute _mess_,

Buffy started the wedding.

***+***+***

Just a short little fic to kill time while I write nice long updates to my other stories, "Of Blondes that Bite and Stab," and "Irony Becomes Her." This one could sort of be a prequel to "Bad Daddy," but they're really both just stand~alones. Hope you liked it. Tell me what you think, and never _ever_ litter.

~Star Mouse 


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